


A Golden Crown of Blood

by Requiem_For_Rose



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Bianca-centered, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, M/M, Marius and Bianca are going to get it on, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Sex, Slightly slow burn, Violence, gotta have the angst first, marius is a daddy, multi-chapter, probably some daddy kink too, with Marius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28583232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requiem_For_Rose/pseuds/Requiem_For_Rose
Summary: An Immortal has forever to love and to hate someone. Bianca knows this, as does Marius. Yet despite Marius' sometimes questionable behavior, Bianca just keeps returning to her maker-something that they both need. Time-lapsed multi-chapter fic.
Relationships: Marius de Romanus/Bianca Solderini
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	A Golden Crown of Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morbidromantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbidromantic/gifts).



> This is for you, Morbid Romantic. There always needs to be more Marius and Bianca.

**December 1499**

_**"No Matter how long we exist, we have our memories..."** _

Christmas in the palazzo had always been a rather elaborate and ornate affair. As long as Bianca had known Marius, he had always loved grandeur and procession. Though he was a self-professed pagan, Marius had admitted that he found something charming about the Christian aspect of it.

“But I only love Christianity for the art and decadence.” Marius confided into Bianca a few days before the beginning of Epiphany. They were sitting in his private studio; Marius had just finished painting a portrait of Bianca, and they were waiting for the paint to dry so that he could add the dozens of mini pearls that he had mysteriously acquired. Bianca was unsurprised. It was fairly common for most men of status to be Christian only in appearance, though Marius was not that either.

“Don’t you find the thought of Christ endearing, though?” she asked, resting her head on his broad shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the room and the comforting yet unnatural hardness of his body.

“Mm, perhaps,” Marius replied vaguely.

Bianca shivered slightly as he lightly brushed his cold fingers through her hair, the tips of his fingers massaging her scalp. “But the story of a savior is hardly anything new in the realms of mythology. You know this.”

She did. Though she would have hardly dared to compare or even speak of Christianity and Pagan Mythology being one and the same. Of course, Marius seemed to live by a different set of rules than what she did, and not for the first time, Bianca felt a slight twinge of jealousy for the freedom that he was allowed to have and the freedom that she was denied.

Marius, sensing her unusual discomfort, sought to comfort her. “But I can see that this talk makes you uneasy.” He gave her a warm and genuine smile; it was one that Bianca did not see very much.

“It’s not the talk, my Lord. You know this. You know my soul.” She didn’t say this to flatter him. The thought of her beloved Marius reading her mind made her ashamed. It was foolish to think that he didn’t know that she murdered men. Of course he did. He was an all-knowing Lord. He was her all-knowing Lord. Her God. He was hers as sure as he was Amadeo’s. Perhaps even more so. Amadeo had a certain hardness about him that Bianca didn’t possess. She never asked what happened to her disappearing cousins, but she greatly doubted that they went with Marius quietly. _ **“We are both murderers, you and I together, Bianca.”**_

Marius stood up, his movement from the couch where they sat together, graceful and fluid. “Let’s leave these dark thoughts alone tonight.” He said in such a kind voice that it made Bianca’s heart ache. He reached for her small hand and pulled her up beside him, guiding her gently to the canvas and the painting of her that he had been working on.

Bianca felt her throat catch. “Marius…” It was like she was staring back at a living portrait of herself, done in the style Sandro Botticelli. She felt his body behind her, his chin resting on top of her head. Such a position that she would only allow Marius to have.

“Yes, it’s missing something, don’t you think?” His voice, thoughtful. 

She tilted her head up so she could look at his quiet contemplative expression. “I think it’s perfect.”

He gave a soft laugh. “If only I could see things through your eyes, my darling girl.”

Bianca held her head down. “I don’t want you to see the things in my head, My Lord.”

She thought of the countless men she had slaughtered in the name of her wretched cousin, Martino and his band of fools. Yes, they were all fools. And perhaps she was one, too. Marius looked solemn, guiding Bianca back to his couch, pulling his girl into his lap. As much as Bianca loved Amadeo more than anything, she cherished these moments alone with Marius more than any master of eloquence could convey.

Curling up into his chest, her legs wrapped around her Lord’s hips, she rested her head on his cold shoulder. A shoulder that she had more than gotten accustomed to. She felt Marius’ cold lips brushing and nipping her neck; it was not very painful and it came to her like in a dream.

Bianca closed her eyes, allowing her Lord, her Lover, her Father, her God, everything that he needed. She knew. But like everything else she kept it tight to her heart. Maybe one day. But not on this lovely night.

“My darling little Bianca,” Marius murmured against her neck.

“I love you, My Lord.” She waited for a response and when she didn’t get one, she looked up curiously. Marius was gazing at her with a sad and melancholy expression.

“Marius…”

He held a cold marble white finger to her lips, and she felt her flesh raise up in bumps and her tiny pink nipples harden.

“Another night.” Bianca thought she heard him say. But she was too close to dreams. The land where real meshed with the fancies. And that night, Bianca would have sold her soul to stay in the world of fancies with Marius’ kisses and love.

She had no inkling of how the fires of epiphany would change the winds of her life, as well as those that she loved forever.


End file.
